Nikola Grozdanovic

With a bare minimum amount of suspense, and a screenplay that needs too much work for one that has so many long stretches of silence, this film leaves you with too many reasons not to care about it.

Some intriguing dialogue, and a closet full of fantastic frocks, can’t help an impressive ensemble cast save A Little Chaos from being a lackadaisical picture, far removed from anything remotely exciting as chaos.

This outer space oddity is destined for the cult-classic section of some future camp horror and sci-fi B-movie aisle.

Too many times, Trash asks the audience to trust its characters and their words unconditionally by throwing around terms like "change," "hope," and "rights" with no basis whatsoever.

There are moments when the fabrication behind Claire’s arc breaks to reveal a real person, and the filmmaker’s have Aniston to thank for this, because it’s certainly not the bland dialogue or unremarkable events.

The acting is as inspired as the screenplay allows, which just isn't enough to add any kind of conviction to the events that transpire on screen.

With a unique blend of style and content, an escalating discomfort in atmosphere, a score that sounds like it was spawned from the nether regions of hell, and three ferocious performances, Hungry Hearts is this year’s most unique horror film.

The silent scenes, which hold so much power in the first act, feel emptier and emptier, as the conclusion nears. Moments where Halpern’s score felt like it was adding to what was on screen, turn to moments where it’s compensating for the lack of interest.

While the execution may be somewhat of a misfire, the obvious effort and thought put into making the concept work is worthy.

So the story is relentlessly rudimentary and it’s directed in an expected, uncomplicated, formulaic manner.

The decisions made by the characters of I Am I feel so rushed that everyone’s emotional compass is either utterly broken, ignored, useless, or frustratingly disorienting.

This is one of those mind games that lean too heavily on the mindless to be thoroughly enjoyable, turning sadistic pleasure into harmless boredom.

It’s one of the director’s worst films, if not the worst.

Your time would be better spent staring at a postcard for two hours. No, not even the presence of the usually magnetic Marion Cotillard will stave off the boredom of Garcia and Jacques Fieschi‘s screenplay.

As far as the spy genre goes, Pierce Brosnan’s The November Man is more filler than thriller.

Loo and Lau’s Dragons is too busy reveling in tilted angles, music video editing, mind-numbingly clichéd dialogue, wooden acting and a one-dimensional story about brotherhood.

Trying something different and playing around with convention is always commendable, but if The Reflektor Tapes proves anything, it's that the result can sometimes fail miserably.

If it were funnier, perhaps the trite action and insipid characters could be excused, but it isn’t nearly funny enough for that.

This is advertisement masquerading as a story, pretending to be a movie, but at the very least, it’s for a good cause.

It fails to convince, and succeeds only in frustrating.

Despite the valiant efforts from the two leads, the only thing of value that gets robbed in American Heist is our time.

It’s, all told, a preposterous and pretentious mess of a film, and all the good intentions in the world don’t mean anything when the execution is as ham-fisted as it is here.

Buried underneath the glop are interesting notions on reality, creation, and the nature of death. And thanks to its aesthetic, it's at least a very beautiful catastrophe.